By Tikum Mbah Azonga
The lotus-filled peach trees
Too tall for Sally
Are the angelic echo
I hear every night in my dreams
As I cross the Atlantic
On my wooden bicycle
Bound for the land of opportunities
I may be mad to you
But remember
Every great thought
Started like some madness.
I’m not reinventing the wheel
And in any case
What if I bring back the Golden Fleece?
© 2009
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